


Gift of Avalon

by ChaosComix



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Faeries - Freeform, Inspired By Tumblr, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, and mishief, because faeries, faerie!Castiel, hunter!dean, there will be lots and lots of faeries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosComix/pseuds/ChaosComix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a simple enough case, in and out before anyone notices anything's off, or at least that’s what it was supposed to be. On a hunt gone terribly wrong Dean finds himself hurtled into the world of the fey. Now it’s a mad rush to escape, and his only help is one of the realm’s own inhabitants. To make things worse, it’s none other than Oberon’s youngest son, Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stolen Away in the Night  OR  How Dean’s a Dumbass and Got Kidnapped by Faeries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a fanart piece seen on tumblr diminuel.tumblr.com/post/64617936904  
> The only things that follow the canon storyline is the fact the Winchesters are hunters and the mythology of the creatures of the SpN universe.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

It was the same as any other, a simple in and out case and then on to the next hunt. That’s what Dean kept telling himself anyway, despite his brother’s pleas to do more research. They’re hunters dammit. The shape shifter needs to be dealt with as soon as possible or more people were going to die, and the creature had already racked up its death count to five in the past week.

 

_______________

 

Dean and Sam have been in the hunting business for as long as they can remember, coming from a long line of some of the most well-known hunters.

_Saving people, hunting things. The family business._

That was the best way Dean described it to his brother, Sam, time and time again. He could tell Sam wanted to have a normal life, but when one knows about all the dangers and evil that goes bump in the night, it’s just never in the cards.  No matter how much one tries.

Sam tried it once and everything ended badly, worse for some more than others especially Jessica. Poor Jess, Sam’s girlfriend, got the worst end of it. The younger brother still has nightmares to this day about her gruesome death. Heartbroken, Sam returned to join Dean and their father for wanting to exact revenge on the creature that took his girlfriend’s life away from him. Once they finally caught up and sent the bastard back to the depths of hell from which it crawled out from, Sam didn’t feel the satisfaction he thought would come to finally ending that chapter in his life. Instead he felt hollow inside and questioning what else he had left to carry on for. It took Dean days to pull his brother out from his depression. In the end, Sam decided Dean was right, though would hardly admit the fact. While they might not have what Dean called the ‘apple pie life,’ if they can help the mundane live their own without having to worry about the paranormal interfering, it would be worth it.

But that was years ago, and now the two brothers and their father are starting to feel the wear and tear that comes with the job. There’s been several sleepless nights questioning if it’s all worth it, people they’ve helped who are no better than the creatures they fight and wondered why they even bother, and now each of them are just so tired that more monsters have escaped than been killed.

 

_______________

 

 

Tonight is no different. The two brothers are on a hunt while their father is chasing another, and both Sam and Dean are struggling to not only stay alive, but awake. Running three hunts back to back with less than four hours of sleep each night is finally taking its toll on them. Their skin is much paler than the usual sun kissed color, dark circles line under their eyes, and their postures show the fatigue weighing down on them. While the fatigue is dangerous enough, it’s nothing compared to the lack of concentration and poor decision making due to lack of rest.

Both Dean and Sam are chasing after the shifter through the woods on foot due to their botched attempt to corner it. Dean’s currently well ahead of Sam determined to catch the son of a bitch once and for all so much that he’s not paying attention to his surroundings as they race past.

The shape shifter, this time in the guise of the bar waitress and most recent victim, sprints through the forest with its borrowed long, red hair flowing behind it. The shoes have been long abandoned, and the creature has completely disregarded its clothing as it is torn to shreds by branches as it runs past.

It stops abruptly and stares wide-eyed at a small, grassy clearing. Slowly and cautiously the shape shifter inches backwards as it is heaving deep breaths and staring down at small, strange, and the most peculiar looking toadstools forming a natural looking ring over the clearing and hidden in the tall grass. Once it deems itself a reasonable and safe distance from the ring it carefully steps around the circle of mushrooms.

The shape shifter looks up across the clearing when it hears light rustling and notices someone else has joined it in the clearing. Dean is the first hunter to catch up to the shape shifter and is panting even harder than the monster. The hunter lifts his gun loaded with silver bullets and points it at the shape shifter, but what the creature does next confuses him.

Instead of fleeing, the monster takes one more look at the ground between them and looks up with a smile, opening its arms invitingly. Normally, warning bells would be going off in Dean’s head telling him something’s wrong, but right now Dean is more focused on getting this hunt over with and hopefully catching some much needed shut eye. He takes a few steps forward and ignores the shiver that runs down his spine and the weird humming, near whispering in his ears as he closes some of the distance between him and the shape shifter.

The creature actually starts laughing, and Dean mentally kicks himself for ignoring almost every hunter instinct he has. Dean’s had enough though, he pulls back the hammer on his gun and for the first time the creature actually speaks to him, “At least I’m taking you with me.”

Dean doesn’t hesitate and pulls the trigger and watches as the shifter falls dead to the ground. He steps closer to ascertain the creature’s death and at a certain point finds himself to go any further. The creature has most certainly been killed if its unblinking, cold eyes are anything to go by, but the shifter’s smile is still affixed on the late waitress’ face. That’s when Dean notices the strange blue and blue mushrooms hiding in the tall grass. Now that he notices them, he’s amazed at how he missed them in the first place. He’s never seen anything like them. Each one has a strange and unique shape and in just the right light, or moonlight in this case, they sparkle much like spider webs covered in dew at dawn. Upon closer inspection, the stalks are black or dark blue, Dean can’t really tell in this poor lighting. He looks down the line of mushrooms and half way around the circle he notices he’s surrounded by them. His eyes go wide when he realizes he’s just willingly stepped into a faerie ring.

The humming, no, it’s definitely whispering, possibly singing even, is getting louder and looking around he hears and sees rustling from within the ring. This isn’t simply a faerie ring, it’s a damn rath.

_Shit!_

Sam bursts through into the clearing and Dean spins around and holds out a hand indicating him to stop. The younger brother looks confused as he tries to catch his breath, but the confusion gives into surprise when glimmering lights start spinning around the circle. The rustling is getting wild and the whispering is so loud the brothers could swear that someone is right next to their ears.

“Dean, what-”

Dean gulps and stares are his brother for what he hopes isn’t the last time, “I fucked up Sammy.”

The dancing lights are almost blinding now and circling around Dean, and one second Dean is there surrounded by bright mysterious lights and in the next he’s gone and the forest has gone dark again.

 

_______________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Dean stumbled into is a faerie ring. In this case, I made a faerie ring that also functions as a wrath. There have been stories and my brother and I have both personally witness animals stop and purposely walk around natural faerie rings. I imagine it would be similar with supernatural creatures as well.
> 
> Faerie rings (aka fairy circles, elf circles, elf rings, pixie rings): this strange occurring phenomenon is rings or arcs of mushrooms that grow naturally in forests and sometimes plains. In mythology (that I used for this story, but please look into the lore as it is extensive and really cool), when someone breaks the perimeter of the ring they become invisible to any and all mortals outside of the ring and in most cases can find it impossible to leave. In Welsh lore the faeries themselves try to lure humans into the circle to dance with them to exhaustion, death, or madness.
> 
> Faerie raths: homes of the faerie kind usually circular and in some lore are the only visible portals to their magical realm. The only way to find out if it is a rath or not is by sleeping in one for a full night. (I have heard stories of where in some cases it doesn’t have to be a full night and there’s been activity minutes after stepping into one.


	2. Strange Bedfellows OR  Dean Getting the Hell Out of Dodge, While Unintentionally Kidnapping the Youngest Son of Oberon.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The lights were blinding. Dean stared at Sam as long as he could until it was too much and he shielded his eyes with and arm grimacing. The light was hot and Dean felt himself surrounded in it as the whispers voices doubled and possibly more than that, he had no idea. All he knew was he couldn’t see and the voices were too loud and too close for comfort. Then again any sense of comfort disappeared when he stepped into the damn faerie ring.

He didn’t even know he was screaming until the voices stopped and the hot light disappeared all at once. His screams trailed off and Dean’s head was ringing. He blinked his eyes in an attempt to see and make the dark clouds and spots away. It took too long in his opinion, and while rubbing hard at his eyes he was afraid there might have been permanent damage. Rustling could be heard all around him, and he was certain he heard the sound of weapons being drawn. There’s no chance in hell, or wherever he ended up, that he would go down without a fight.

 

____________________

 

 

Unfortunately, he still can’t see shit. Dean’s just barely able to make out dark silhouettes. He takes a defensive stance and ‘looks’ around hoping the enemy doesn’t know he’s still mostly blind. Any hope that he has about that dissipates when he feels something sharp pressing up against the place between his shoulder blades. Dean’s posture straightens up and he waits a moment to see if his attackers decide to do anything else. Rather than attacking, the enemy speaks out to one another in a language Dean can’t even begin to place. That’s the opening he’s looking for and he spins around and grabs at where the weapon was. He manages to get ahold of the end and realizes it’s not one of the brightest ideas he’s had. Dean’s so used to people holding him at gun point that he didn’t think of the possibility of injuring himself on a sharp, cold blade.

The second he notices what it is, he pulls his hand back just before he cuts himself to deep and swings his other arm to bat the weapon from his enemies hands. It doesn’t work, of course, but it does catch the attacker off guard enough that they stumble backwards. Unfortunately, that’s the only good fortune Dean gets, as the others immediately spring into action. A few of them grab Dean and throw him to the ground face first, others placing the sharp ends of their weapons against Dean’s back. The hunter continues to struggle, but to no avail. There’s too many and when Dean lifts his face from the grassy ground, he sees his gun too far out of reach. A lot of good it’s doing over there.

That’s when he realizes he can finally see again, though there are a few black spots swimming in his vision. He tries to turn to get a good look at his attackers. It turns out to be a bit difficult, however, as they all seem intent on binding Dean’s arms behind him. Just when Dean thinks he can finally get a glimpse of them, something hard strikes him against the back of his head and he’s out much like the light that blinded him earlier.

 

 

_______________

 

When Dean finally comes to, he’s half expecting to wake up in some cold and creepy dungeon. Instead, he’s lying in a wooden cage and it’s not cold at all. He shifts to sit up and Dean thinks he’s suffering from vertigo when it feels like the cage is swaying. That is, until he finds out the cage really _is_ swaying and suspended a good fifty feet in the air from the largest tree Dean has even seen. Dean thinks about how the size of trees has to do with its age, and he decides this one must have been around even before the human race. Dean would probably be more impressed with it if it wasn’t for the fact he was trapped in a cage tied to the monstrous thing. That and the fact he refuses to move again in fear of making the damn wooden cage from swinging again.

Colorful lights slowly flicker in and out like fireflies around the tree and chimes and various decorations spin and dance in the wind from where they hang from the limbs. Rather than continue to take in his surroundings, he closes his eyes and starts humming the first thing he can think of, which happens to be “Some Kind of Monster” to which he would laugh at the irony if it wasn’t for the fact he was two seconds away from hyperventilating. His head is throbbing from where he was hit, but the pain in combination with the humming is helping and he takes the comfort wherever he can get it.

Not long after he starts humming, he hears someone join in with his humming. The other voice obviously doesn’t know the song, but the melody they add matches well with the harmony. He still can’t bring himself to open his eyes, but he finds that he doesn’t mind the other person humming along. Shortly after the first joins, more and more jump in and add their own melody. It’s beautiful, and Dean can finally bring himself to look and the sight he’s met with actually is distracting enough to make him forget about his predicament.

The flickering lights that were dancing around the large tree are now hovering around his suspended prison, and the closer he looks, the more he can make out figures hidden in the light.

His brows furrow in confusion and his humming stops when he leans closer to the end of the cage, “Nipples?”

Immediately after the word leaves his mouth, the one figure of light he was leaning towards surges forward and smacks him hard in the face. Dean jolts back and the cage sways dangerously. His hands go to the bars, his knuckles turn white from his tight grip, and he screams as the cage swings side to side. The lights race off in all directions away from Dean’s cage and he’s not sure if it was the movement or his screaming that did it, but he doesn’t care. He just wants the damn thing to stop moving.

It takes a few minutes, but the cage slows down enough for Dean to pry his fingers from the bars. His hands hurt and when he takes a look at them he realizes that it’s given him splinters. Great. Now he has to worry about sore hands while trying to escape this place. As if things weren’t bad enough already.

Speaking of escaping, he needs a plan. Hopefully something better than freaking out in a fucking cage until he starves to death. Although it may have been a bad first impression, maybe he could convince one of those… whatever the hell they were to give him some sort of help. He gulps and looks outward again, scanning for one of those things to grab the attention of. When he looks out the other side he sees a magnificent white, wooden castle covered in vines that looks as if it was made from the dried roots of a great tree stump.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when the cage suddenly creaks. Dean panics believing the stupid thing is going to break and he’s going to fall fifty _fucking_ feet, until he sees people below holding what appears to be the rope to his cage. He barely holds back a laugh. Even from this distance, they look like the people that LARP with Charlie. Not that he would know anything about that, of course.

His amusement is ripped away when the cage starts lowering at what he considers an alarming rate. It’s not slowing down and Dean has to shut his eyes again and hoping for the best. He only jostles slightly in the cage when it stops suddenly, and Dean notices that he’s been lowered on to a bed of hay or grass.

Now that he’s safely on the ground, he could care less about what happens next. “Hey, assholes! Let me out of here!”

His voice gets their attention, but none of them reply. The only way Dean’s brain would allow him to describe his captors is ‘those fucking Lord of the Rings wood elves’ and Dean wonders if Tolkien had actually met elves and that’s where he got the idea from. Big stupid cloaks and furs with small bits of armor made from wood and bits of metal, long flowing hair and pointed ears, and really fancy looking weapons. Ok. They look pretty cool actually. If he’s honest he _might_ be having a bit of a geek out moment, but he can freak out later. Right now, he needs to get the hell out of here.

“Hey! Did you hear me you pointy eared dicks? I said-”

“We heard you.” None of them have bothered to look at Dean, but one finally speaks up while hooking his cage to what looks like the wagon of leaves and grass his cage dropped into. Dean can tell there’s a strange accent behind his voice and the words are slurred in a way that Dean knows English isn’t his native language, but the ears gave that away first. “We just didn’t want to lower ourselves to your level,” The brunette elf turns to face him and actually smirks at Dean, “ _Flatear_.”

Dean has no idea why he takes so much offense to that comment, but he knows an insult when he hears one. “Oh, we wouldn’t want that, now would we, _princess_?”

He was expecting the elf to get angry, but instead he only smiles even more. “Oh, dear. I think you’re in for a bit of trouble. They’re going to like you a lot.” The elf looks up above Dean’s cage, “In fact, I think some have already taken a good interest in you.”

When Dean looks confused the elf continues, “It’s not wise to have the attention of faeries, human. They’ll never let you go once they decide to _keep_ you.”

_Fuck._

Of _course_ there’s faeries. If there’s elves, faeries shouldn’t be far behind, right? They’re like related or something and Dean’s really wishing he took Charlie up on her offer on role-playing “Changeling” two weeks ago. The only information he has on faeries is through a limited amount of fantasy fiction books he secretly read as a kid, not to mention read _years_ ago. But these guys are elves, not faeries. They’re more about diplomacy and all that crap, or at least that’s what Dean’s read. If that’s the case though, his chances of getting out of here are better now than they will be later, not that those chances are much better.

“I’m sorry I made fun of your ears,” Dean mumbles, and while he means it, he’s only saying it to help convince the guy into helping him.

“Behaving now? I suppose you finally figured out the lesser evil of the two. ” The elf turns away with a smirk when he finishes tying the cage down. “Maybe you’re not as dumb as we originally thought.”

Dean falls back on his rear end and grimaces when the cart starts getting pulled by a strange and exotic white animal he failed to notice earlier. “Oh, gee. Thanks.” He should be keeping a closer rein on his attitude, but he can’t help it when someone starts trouble first.

“Though, it would be difficult not to be. We were more than surprised when we found out you could form entire sentences.” The guy is really pissing Dean off and if he wasn’t in a damn cage, Dean would probably have thrown a punch by now.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up chuckles.” Dean’s hoping the elf will pick up on his sarcasm because he really doesn’t want to hear any more. “So your friends too good to talk to me then?”

“They don’t understand what you’re saying. Now it’s rare for our kind to know human. We aren’t very welcome there much anymore, but judging by you attire and how many it took to take you down, I’m certain you know what I mean by that.” The elf’s eyes narrow and he says the next word in a low hiss, “ _Hunter_.”

Dean gulps, but it’s the only tell he gives about the dramatic change in his predicament. So much for trying to talk his way out of this one. He’ll need to think of something before they get to wherever they are heading.

 

 

_______________

 

The ride is quiet and alarmingly short. Once the elf revealed he knew what Dean was, Dean decided to remain quiet and focus more on an escape rather than convincing the one English speaking elf to aid Dean in letting him go. Unfortunately, none of the elves stood within reach of his cage and when he checks his personal effects, he realizes that they managed to pick every small tool he’s hidden on his person. They even took his shoes, his socks, his watch, and the damn buttons from his plaid shirt. While he had no clue what he could possibly do with his freaking shirt buttons, he probably could have thought of something with the picks he had in his wallet, his swiss army knife from his jacket pocket, or even his shoelaces, but there’s nothing. He’s thankful that they at least let him keep his clothes.

Dean stiffens at the thought of them going through his belongings while he was unconscious, and his mind gets a bit off topic and he looks suspiciously at the elf he briefly talked to earlier. The elf feels eyes on him and he looks over at Dean with a questioningly look.

“You guys didn’t get…” Dean’s head turns slightly with his eyes still trained on his captor and squinting. “handsy, did you?”

The elf sighs and rolls his eyes turning to face forward again.

Dean goes back to planning, but the closer the castle gets, the more he starts to panic. For the first time ever, he doesn’t have any ideas. He could start banging against the bars with his already sore hands, but the elves might knock him out again or simply kill him. Even if he does manage to get out of the cage, then what? He’s dealing with the enemy in their home territory and Dean doesn’t know where he is let alone where to go to get out of here.  He usually works better under pressure, but the odds are definitely not in his favor and he’s drawing a blank.

Sure enough, they’re at the gates and Dean’s given up on escaping for now. Maybe when they let him out of the cage he could try making for a break for it. If not then, there’s bound to be some kind of slip up. He’s just going to have to be patient.

Too bad Dean Winchester isn’t the patient type.

The gate itself is huge and now that they’re passing under it, Dean can make out elaborate carvings on the wood with gold paint in the carvings. Similar charms and chimes hang from the top of the gateway and it would be calming if it wasn’t for the impending doom that Dean feels now that he’s within the castle walls… and the center of attention.

The courtyard is lit up by the sun pouring light through the cut holes in the top of the wooden spikes of the tree roots. Whatever isn’t lit by the natural sunlight is lit by bizarre lanterns. They must be magical because the light of the flames is pure white and Dean can’t discern where the lanterns are even attached. He’d question them more, but he’s distracted by the very things he’s been hunting. He can’t tell most of them just by their appearance because they look human right now, but there’s a couple of djinns and what’s clearly a changeling already.

After removing the cage from the wagon, the elves put rods through holes on the side of the cage and lift Dean up. Dean’s first thought is that it’s just his luck that they are still out of his reach. The elves bring him into what appears to be a large dining hall with lighting much similar to the courtyard, but with a softer and orange color to the lantern lights. The dining hall is packed and loud. The light faeries he saw in the tree are here as well as more elves, giants, gnomes, and there’s even a fucking unicorn on the far left of the room.

The voices die out quickly and everyone in the room starts turning to face Dean and the elves when he’s brought across the room. At the front of the dining room is an enormous and decadent throne that is shaped with the same spiked appearance of tree roots to match the castle’s exterior. It’s painted gold with vines hanging over the sides and back and flowers growing in and around the carvings. Large cushions and multicolored, silk sheets spread all over the seat as a well-toned, dark haired man with pointed ears sits upon them.

The part that really makes the man on the throne stand out are the fantastic wings erupting from his back. They’re unlike anything Dean has heard in faerie tales though. They’re not shaped like butterfly or dragonfly wings, but more treelike than anything else. The top wings stick out at a forty-five degree angle before the wings slope back down at a similar angle. White and gold feathers spring out from the masses and at the second juncture become more wispy and thin. The bottom two wings are much like the tops two, but they round more than go at angles and curl at the ends.

His ears look different than the elves. Where the elves are slim and tall, this man’s ears are a about as wide but taller than a humans and shorter than the elves’. The man stands up from his seat the moment he sets eyes on the cage, and therefore Dean. Apparently he has no modesty as the guy’s shirtless and there’s not much in regards to the rags of what he must call clothing wrapped around his waist. Dean calls them rags, but they’re neither torn nor tattered, there’s just not much to look at. The fabric of the garment itself looks incredibly expensive. In fact, it looks like he’s wearing more on his head than the rest of him as a delicately carved, white, wooden crown with white flowers with red centers sits atop of it.

It appears like he has an extravagant silk, robe draping over the side of the throne, but chooses not to wear it. There’s a white fur collar and embroidery stitched all over the bottom almost half way up the robe. The robe lays forgotten as the man straightens his posture and raises his chin as if to stare down at Dean. He takes a large step and walks barefoot onto the table in front of him and the top ends of his wings unfurl slightly in an aggressive manner and he continues staring his green eyes at the human.

The elf he’s actually held a conversation with speaks, but it’s in a language Dean doesn’t recognize. Big surprise there. The man standing on the table tenses and Dean catches the elf gesturing towards Dean. There’s a moment of silence and regardless of the room being packed as much as it is, he’s pretty damn sure this isn’t a normal silence.

Foreign words spill from the man with the wings up front and suddenly the room is bustling with whispers and many glances at Dean. Even the elf seems surprised and Dean doesn’t like that the elf gave him an apologetic look.

“I _said_ , bring him here.”

That was one hundred percent English, and Dean doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. He decides to remain silent for the time being. This room is almost bursting with creatures that could easily kill him, so it’s best to play along for now.

He’s startled and ducks his head under his arms when he hears the loud sound of wood breaking. A large chunk of the top of the cage and a fair amount of the front bars now lay at his feet. There never was a lock. The assholes had nailed him shut in there. He sends the elves a glare, but is quickly raised off his feet and is dragged over to the front of the room by two elves as the other two hold drawn weapons at Dean.

The elves throw Dean down on his knees, who is about five seconds away from saying fuck it and attacking everyone, in front of the hot shot standing on the table. The man scrutinizes Dean before he nods and says something in that weird language again and Dean is suddenly being dragged off to god knows where, not missing the smirks and mocking smiles as he’s pulled out of the dining hall.

“Alright, Ears.” Once they’re out of the room Dean decides it’s a good enough time to get some information. “What was that all about?”

“Amras. If you’re going to call me anything, call me by my name.” He makes a point to look at Dean when he continues, “My name is Amras.”

Dean barely bites back a retort, “All right then, _Amras_.” He pauses when something hits him, “Wait. Amras? Where have I heard that name before?” Not important, he’ll figure that out later. “Anyways, Amras, care to explain what the hell that was?”

For a second, it looks like Amras isn’t going to answer, “Lord Oberon and Lady Titania are in their competitive moods again. Originally, I told him that we brought you for Titania, but given their current arguments Oberon wouldn’t have it. Instead it’s a repeat of the last time this happened.” At Dean’s lost stare, Amras continues, “The Lady had a human, male child in her care but the Lord demanded to take the first born son from her to use as his personal slave.”

“Slave?!” Dean’s eyes go large, and he tries to pull away with more force than before.

“Apologies. I do not think that was the right word. I’m a bit rusty. What do you call a person who is forced to work for someone without expecting anything in return?” Amaras says legitimately curious.

Dean’s mouth forms into a fine line, “That’s a fuckin’ slave.”

Amras smiles pleased, “Oh, so I was correct, then?”

Dean stares at Amras in disbelief, then immediately starts pulling and tearing himself away from the elves without much luck. It’s a struggle, but Dean loses his struggle in the end and gets put into what looks like a ten by ten room with no outside light and only one lantern and a small pile of cushions in the corner. He doesn’t want to think about what that bucket in the corner is for.

The “door” closes, which happens to be several vines covering the frame. Amras sends Dean one last look of sympathy and the elves leave Dean alone in his new cell.

“Finally,” Dean mutters to himself as he pulls out some silverware from the dining hall. He managed to snag them when he was thrown down to his knees in front of ‘Lord Douche.’

Dean immediately sets to work and starts cutting at the vines with the new tools he acquired. He pauses whenever he thinks he hears someone coming down the hall, but it seems that no one is going to interrupt him any time soon. Dean gets enough cut that he is able to squeeze through the vines and start making his way toward freedom. He remembers he has no idea how to get back home. Smaller steps, Dean. First, out of the castle, then freedom, then home.

He can’t go back the way he came, everyone is still in the dining hall, so he heads in the other direction. The other cells are unoccupied and after about twenty he comes across a wooden, spiral staircase made from the same material as the wood of the castle. He would use the railing if his hands didn’t hurt so damn much. The splinters were bad enough, but that entire vine cutting with a dull knife thing didn’t make things any easier.

Dean rubs at his hands as he climbs the stairs, and at the second floor he catches sight of guards down the hall, but he doesn’t think they have seen him yet. He quietly continues back up the staircase and the space around the top is getting narrower at he climbs. The third floor takes forever to get to and Dean assumes it must be near the top of the root spike. A little winded when he finally comes to a door at the end, he decides if he gets out of here in one piece, he might take up Sam on eating a little better. _Maybe_.

Unlike everything else, the door is cold metal, but the carvings are the same from that of the throne and castle gate. Dean slowly turns the handle and pushes the door open. He’s met with the back of another winged person with dark hair staring out a slim open window. Either the faerie hasn’t noticed him yet, or they simply don’t care.

He can’t make out much from the faerie’s back, but the wings look much like Oberon’s except these wings are black instead of white and with specks of blues, greens, and purples instead of gold. They are wearing much more clothing than Oberon, which isn’t hard considering what Dean saw. A fur collared, long sleeve shirt with poufy sleeves, with matching embroidery and even gold tassels at the ends cover another shirt and matching pants that’s worn underneath. The wings look like they are tied shut with vines at the top and one candle sits in each of the grooves of the bottom two wings.

Footsteps can be heard climbing the stairs and Dean panics and he steps in the room closing the door behind him. The faerie hears the door close and turns to look at Dean, and Dean is met with what he thinks is one of the most gorgeous men he’s ever seen. Dean shakes the thoughts, he doesn’t have time for this or ever because the dude’s a fucking faerie and any kind of relationships with the supernatural is a big no no, and he starts to look around the room when the man makes no move to turn him in. The faerie tilts his head staring deeply at Dean as if he’s never seen anything like him before.

The footsteps are louder now, and the faerie hears them now too and his head turns to the direction of the door. Dean sends the faerie a terrified and pleading look, licking his lips as he glances between the faerie and the door. The faerie seems to catch on and his eyes widen in realization and he rushes over to the door.

Dean thinks that this is it. The guy is going to turn him in and he’s probably going back to the cell or worse, but the faerie waves a hand over the door and vines, much like the ones that kept him in his cell, now cover the whole backside of the metal door. The faerie turns back to Dean and then goes over to the left wall. Dean gasps when the faerie opens a door out of nowhere and waves for him to follow. Having no other option, that’s exactly what Dean does.

More fucking stairs. At least he’s going down the stairs this time.

The staircase is dark, and the only light he sees is in front of him from the candles flickering on the faeries wings, and a light glow from the faerie himself. Once at the bottom of the stairs, the faerie opens a small square of the wall and looks around. Seeing the coast is clear, he steps out and starts rushing down the hall and Dean follows hot on his heels.

 

 

_______________

 

Twists and turns everywhere. Dean’s doing his best to keep up with the faerie, especially now that he has no clue where he is, but he was already tired from before and he’s running low on steam. Luckily, the faerie picks up on this and pulls Dean into a small alcove. The faerie still hasn’t said a word to Dean and Dean wonders if that’s because he doesn’t know English of any of the human language.

Once Dean thinks he’s finally managed to catch his breath, he nods to the other man to let him know he’s ready. The two are back to running all over the castle, and eventually the faerie takes him to what looks like a small garden with a small pool in the middle. The faerie rushes and stands in middle of the pond and holds out his hand for Dean. Dean pauses, unsure if this is a good idea, but it’s better than rotting in a cell and he steps in to join the other in the small pool. The faerie grips his left shoulder tight with his right hand and suddenly Dean’s arm feels like it’s on fire.

The bright light he saw before he got here the first time surrounds him again, but this time it’s not blinding. There’s only one voice and it’s not deafening, it’s _calming_. His arm still hurts, but everything is far better this time and before he knows it, they’re flying.

 

 

_______________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was kind of going for a Matt Cohen as Oberon thing. I have a reason for that, other than the fact I thought he was the best pick for him. I’m sure you’ve probably already figured it out. Titania has a throne also which is in another room, but I’m probably not going to do much with her in this story. The dining hall isn’t the same as the throne room and there’s one for each of them in the throne room.
> 
> Also, the faeries didn’t cut down a tree to make the castle. One of their great trees died and they reused as much of it as they could to honor the tree. Even in its death, it’s still very precious to them.


	3. A Handprint and a Few Curious Habits and Quirks of Faeries OR How Dean Got Stuck Sharing a Bed with a Faerie

Dean’s head is spinning, and he’s sitting up before he realizes he’s on the ground. The cold, hard, and tiled floor of a large grocery market no less. There’s a few people staring oddly at him, and a few concerned mothers gently pulls their children away, but no security at least. Not yet anyway.

And no faeries.

Speaking of which, he looks around for any sign of the one that actually helped him, but is cut short at the searing pain in his upper, left arm. Dean rubs at the tender area and winces and he will be sure to look at it later when he’s not sitting in a crowded store. After making it to his feet and ignoring the swimming feeling in his head, his eyes widen at someone bent over a spilled crate of rice. Dean, against his better judgment because if he keeps this up he’s going to pass out, looks around quickly at anyone nearby. They seem more concerned about Dean rather than the man, or in this case faerie, carefully placing the small grains of rice into a very organized pile.

Dean tugs at loose part of the faerie’s sleeve, but the faerie waves him off without looking at him and continues organizing.

“Come on, man.” Now Dean is really wishing he got the faerie’s name at least. He could call Sam, but he has no idea where he even is. The most important thing right now is to get the faerie out of here and away from citizens.

A bit slower this time, he glances around looking for anything that could help him. Luckily he spots a Tupperware display at the end of the aisle and he starts scooping up the loose grains and putting them in the tubs. He spots an empty cart and carefully puts the empty bag in the cart with the hole at the top. Dean adds the plastic tubs to the seat of the cart and hands the faerie one full tub and one empty one. It’s distracting enough that he starts counting the grains and moving them from one container to the other and Dean starts leading the faerie towards the front entrance.

“You can count em’ in the car.” The faerie seems to follow him for the most part, albeit very slowly and in silence which Dean is grateful for. Though, now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t heard him speak yet.

Dean got more strange looks from the cashier when she saw he was buying a split twenty pound bag of rice and open Tupperware, but she seemed alright when Dean explained that his friend has obsessive compulsive disorder and compulsive counting is one of the symptoms he has. The part he’s most baffled about is the fact she doesn’t even give the faerie a second glance.

After checking out, he gets the two of them and their purchases to a secluded corner and Dean pulls out his cell phone and dials Sam. He looks over at the newspaper rack and grabs the local paper. Apparently they’re in the same town that he was in before this whole faerie fiasco started.

Sam picks up on the first ring, “Dean? Dean is that you, where are you?”

“Whoa there, Sam.” Dean can’t help but smile at his little brother’s concern. “Chill out. I’m at the grocery store in town. Man, have I got a long story for you. Where are you?”

“What do you mean where am I? I’m still at the camp grounds.” Dean’s completely lost at his brother’s words. “You disappeared right in front of me like ten minutes ago. How are you all the way in town without the car?”

“Dude, I’ve been gone for hours.” Dean may have not checked his watch, but even assuming he wasn’t knocked out that long, he’s fairly confident he’s been gone a lot longer than ten freaking minutes. It’s only seven thirty. Sam and Dean started tracking the shifter the moment the sun was gone, which was around seven.

“You know what, just stay there. I’m on my way. You can fill me in when I get there.” Sam’s already getting in the impala, but when he pulls on the door handle he remembers something. “Um, Dean?”

“What?” Dean’s annoyance turns to concern at the hesitance in his brother’s voice.

Sam’s still feeling around in his pockets as he holds the cell phone to his ear with his shoulder, “I think you have the car keys.”

“Fuck.” Dean wipes his free hand across his mouth and then turns to look over at the faerie. “Alright, we’ll take a cab and meet you there.”

“Hang on a second. We?” Sam’s not sure what he can believe. First his brother tells him that he’s a lot farther away than he possibly should be, second he says he’s been gone longer than he has, and now in the short span of ten minutes and everything else that is highly unbelievable he’s got someone with him. Knowing Dean, it’s probably some pretty face he doesn’t even know the name of.

Dean sighs, “Part of the long story.”

“Alright. See you in a bit.” Sam hangs up knowing that’s the end of the conversation. Now that he’s not worried about trying to find Dean, he can properly dispose of the shifter body before the cab shows up.

 

_______________

 

Dean takes another look at his new ‘friend’ and sees he’s still too busy counting rice grains with the most determined face he’s seen in some time. He decides it’s safe enough with another look around to stop by the front desk and ask them to call them a cab.

Apparently not, when he gets back he sees a fair number of small children circled around the faerie and staring upward at what are no doubt his bizarre wings. The faerie is still busy counting to pay them much attention, or at least that’s what Dean assumes until he hears a deep voice speaking to the children when he gets close enough to hear.

“They are my wings,” and man is the faerie’s voice a lot deeper than what Dean expected to hear, “and I’m not wearing “girl’s” clothing. Why your kind has such a fixation on what which gender wears what, I will never understand.”

“You speak funny,” one of the little girls says as she reaches a hand cautiously up to one of the faerie’s lower wings.  She quickly pulls her hand back and giggles when the wing twitches away from her. “Your name’s funny too.”

The kids seem to share an agreement with the girl judging by the small sea of nods.

“My name is not funny,” and Dean cannot help but smile at the fact a faerie is arguing with a little girl, “It was given to me by my father as was yours I can only assume, and there is nothing wrong with the way I talk. Your vocabulary is simply too limited.”

One of the boys speaks up this time, “What are you doing?”

“Counting.” The faerie, while answering the children’s constant questions, has been carefully counting throughout. “Now please. Leave me be or I will lose track and have to start over.”

“Can we help you?” Another girl speaks up, “I’m good at counting.”

“Maybe next time, sweetheart.” Dean’s decided that the faerie has had more than enough and is going to spare him from any more trouble. The kids and the faerie all look up at Dean who smiles at them. “You kids better get back to your parents. They’re probably worried about you.”

The children let out exaggerated moans and whines, but start heading off to find their parents. Dean raises an eyebrow at the idea that so many parents would let their kids wander off in a busy supermarket. Part of him worries about the kids making it back safely to their parents, “Hey, hang on a sec guys.” The kids stop and look back at Dean, “Maybe you kids should stay here until I get someone to page your parents, huh?” He’s dealt with monsters on a regular basis, and he knows how most of them work, present company excluded, but when it comes to other people he has no clue. The thought of some pervert snatching one of the kids doesn’t sit right with him though.

Dean walks back to the front desk and asks someone to keep an eye on the kids and one of the supervisors follow him back over to where he left the faerie and the children. When he returns, he notices the faerie looks angry and is glaring at the container that he’s been counting into. Dean also notices it looks a lot emptier than it was when he left ten seconds ago.

“You made him lose count, and he had to start again.” One of the girls giggle, and the kids seem to be having fun at the faerie’s expense.

Great. Dean’s managed to incur the wrath of the one faerie he was on at least peaceful terms with, and one that he’s going to be stuck in the car with for at least forty five minutes.

The supervisor starts to usher the children towards the front desk where she can keep an eye on them, and the kids start whining and complaining again.

The first little girl stops and runs back to the faerie and wraps her arms around him, which startles him. “Bye Cas, Cas… Cas Tea Elf.” She smiles as she lets go, and turns back to join the other who are complaining that they don’t get hugs.

He doesn’t look up from his counting, but Dean sees the irritation from losing count fade and even sees the barest of smiles cross his face, “It’s Castiel, and goodbye, Rachel.”

Dean’s glad when he sees the kids being herded off especially since he can see their cab pull up outside. He pats the faerie, Castiel, on the shoulder twice and motions to head towards the front doors. His brows raise at the side that rumbles from the faerie. “Dude. Did you just growl at me?”

“I’m busy, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me anymore.” Yep, guy’s still mad at him.

“Yeah, not happening. I’m not leaving you here where I can’t keep an eye on you.” Dean figures he’s just going to lay it all out now and hopes Castiel will understand. “You helped me, and I appreciate that, but I still don’t exactly trust you enough to run around on your own.”

Castiel’s hands stop moving, but refuses to lift his gaze from container of rice, “Understandable. Very well, what do you propose?”

“Well, how about we get in this cab and meet up with my brother? You can count on the way.” Dean just hopes the faerie doesn’t get motion sick. To enforce the idea, Dean picks up the large bag of rice and takes a step towards the door.

Luckily, Castiel gets the hint and gathers his materials and counting as he follows Dean to the cab. The driver seems unimpressed when the two get in the car. Dean gives the cab driver directions and he seems more confused by that than the faerie sitting in his cab.

 

_______________

 

After a very awkward twenty minute cab ride, the driver pulls up to where Sam is anxiously standing next to the impala. Dean gets out and pays the driver who looks even more confused, but refrains from asking any questions.

Sam raises an eyebrow as he stares at Castiel who is still sitting in the cab counting rice grains, “Who’s the guy in the trench coat?”

“Trench coat?” Now it’s Dean’s turn to be confused. “Wait. Tell me what you see?”

The look that crosses Sam’s face, Dean can only describe as one of his brother’s classic bitch faces. This one in particular is all but screaming, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Instead, Sam decides to play along with his older brother’s insanity for the time being, “I see a guy, uh, mid to late thirties wearing a suit and a tan trench coat. Why, what do you see?”

Dean looks back over and the first thing that catches his eye is the impatient glare of the cab driver, and he decides this isn’t the best time to start filling Sam in all the details. He quickly walks over and pulls the backseat door open and grabs the bag of rice. It takes a moment, but Castiel eventually gets out of his seat and follows Dean out of the cab, but without stopping his counting. By this point Castiel is already over half way through counting and Dean worries what will happen when he finishes.

After Dean puts the remainder of the bag of rice and Castiel in the back seat, he takes his brother aside for a quick rundown. “All right. So I have no clue on some of the details, but somehow I ended up in the faerie realm and was taken prisoner. The dude sitting in the car is the one that helped me escape.”

Sam appears torn between believing his brother and having him committed. He would never do a thing of course. He knows there’s plenty of crazy enough things out there, most of which he has seen firsthand, but there’s still a few holes in Dean’s story that doesn’t add up quite right. “You were gone ten minutes.”

“I dunno. Maybe time moves more quickly there or something.” Dean’s just as dumbfounded as his brother, but he knows what he experienced was real. There’s a small doubt starting to sit in his gut that the whole thing could have been a dream caused by the faerie sitting in his car, but it’s gone again when he feels that burn on his left deltoid. He remembers everything so clearly, and he just _knows_ it was real. “But I know the guy sitting in the backseat counting rice like it was the most important thing in the world, looks nothing like you described.”

Sam nods. There’s no point in arguing right now when they have no clear answers and a dangerous creature getting closer and closer to finishing its task. “Why is he counting rice?”

Dean shrugs, “Dude was counting a spilled bag of rice when I came to. Must be a faerie thing or something.”

He doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up, “Dean, we can’t just let him run around. He’s dangerous.” Usually Dean’s a “kill first, ask questions later” kind of person and Sam’s the one trying to hear out both sides of the story, so the switch in roles has taken him a bit by surprise.

“Guy saved my life back there.” Dean sighs, and can’t stand the thought of killing someone he owes for covering his ass when he needed it most. “I can’t just gank him.”

“I guess we try and find out a way to send him back?”

“How?”

This time it’s Sam’s turn to shrug.

“Lot of help you are.” Dean can’t help but tease, “You’re supposed to be the nerd.”

The teasing seems to have the desired effect and Sam crosses his arms looking annoyed, “Well, I’m sorry I don’t have the answers about your faerie boyfriend.”

Sam takes a great satisfaction in the fact he managed to wipe his brother’s smug face so quickly, He’s not-”

Sam laughs, “Alright, alright. So how do we keep him from doing faerie stuff?”

“I have no idea.” Dean wipes a hand over his face and then glances back to the car, “I haven’t seen him do anything but count and talk to kids since we got here.”

“Kids?” Dean’s comment has gotten Sam’s interest. “Aren’t children more attuned to the supernatural?”

It makes sense. Dean and the kids are the only ones who can see what Castiel really looks like. “Apparently. That still doesn’t explain why I can see him.”

Unease weighs on Sam’s face and his shoulders tense, “What happens when he finishes?”

Dean’s face hardens, at the very question he’s been asking himself since it started, “I have no freakin’ clue.”

 

_______________

 

Apparently, the answer was nothing. The ride back was tense, and only got worse when Castiel was scraping around the bag for the last remaining grains. It wasn’t until a few minutes of silence that Dean took a quick look back in the rear view mirror to find the faerie staring outside the window and watching everything as it passed. Dean goes between looking in the rear view mirror and the road several times before Sam notices.

When Sam looks over his shoulder he’s met with the same thing Dean sees. Now is as good a time as any to start asking questions, “Hey, uh…”

“Castiel.” Castiel and Sam both look at Dean. “His name’s Castiel.”

“So, Castiel,” Sam’s brows furrow in confusion, “Wait. Isn’t that an angel name or something?”

“It is.” Castiel’s voice shocks Sam just as much as it had Dean, “It means the Angel of Thursday. I’m not certain why my father chose it, but he must have had his reasons.”

Sam looks back at Dean, “Maybe that’s where a lot of angel lore came from. People might have been mistaking faeries for angels?”

“That’s ridiculous.” Castiel actually looks offended by Sam’s question. “Angels are too proud of themselves to allow that to happen. It’s possible my father named myself and a few of my siblings after angels to “dirty” their names as a joke.”

“Dude,” Dean laughs. “Did you just seriously air quote?”

“Wait.” Sam can’t believe his ears, “Are you telling us angels are real?”

“Of course.” Castiel with a slight incline of his head and his usual serious tone. “You’re both hunters, are you not? How would you not know this?”

Sam and Dean share a hurried look and Sam shakes his shoulders, “Well, nothing’s really ever come up and with all the bad stuff we’ve never had any reason to think they were real.”

“Don’t be fooled. Their kind has been as romanticized as my own.” There’s no venom in his voice, but Dean can pick up a slight tiredness as if he’s expected as much. “They’re soldiers and they care nothing other than their Father’s orders. Though I have heard He has been absent as of late, which could be part of the angels’ reason for inactivity.”

Neither Sam nor Dean know how to respond to that. They’ve been so used to the idea that angels and God weren’t real, and yet Castiel is telling them it’s the exact opposite. He _is_ a faerie, however, and there are high chances that he could be lying, but neither can figure out what Castiel could benefit from such a lie.

“So what now?” Dean’s eyes are focused on the road. “What’s your game plan, Cas? You have to know we’re not just going to let you run around on your own.”

“Cas?” The faerie does that head tilt gesture again.

Dean looks wide eyed at his brother hoping for some kind of help, “Uh. Is that okay?”

The faerie nods to himself more than anything else, “It was just… unexpected. To answer your question, I have no idea. To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t even sure if our escape would work. This is my first trip to your world and I would like to see more if I’m permitted. I know you have no reason to trust me, but most of us just want to live peacefully amongst you.”

“Seems to me there were plenty of your kind that would disagree with that.” Of all the fae he met, Castiel was the first and only willing to help him out, and Dean still doesn’t buy into the idea that it was for completely selfless reasons. “There are far too many dangerous faeries in my opinion.”

“The same could be said of your kind.” Castiel replies without skipping a beat.

Dean’s eyebrows rise at that, “Touché.”

Castiel goes back to staring out the window, and the rest of the drive is spent in uncomfortable silence.

 

______________

 

 

When they finally arrive back at their motel room, Castiel is the first out of the car and stretches his wings. Once he’s spread his wings out, as much as one can with them being bound, he immediately starts looking around fascinated almost by everything. Dean and Sam let him look his fill, Sam watching amused and Dean simply rolling his eyes, and usher the faerie into the motel room.

Dean turns on the television and tosses the remote on the nearby bed. “I dunno about Sam, but I’m starving. You want to earn our trust and look around, you stay here and we’ll be right back. Think you can do that?” Dean doesn’t want to leave the faerie by himself, but he desperately wants some time away from Castiel to think about things. Also, chances are that Sam wants more information and doesn’t want to discuss what they are going to do about Castiel directly in front of the faerie.

“I don’t understand. Couldn’t you solve your hunger situation, your desire to have me supervised, and my own desire to look around by taking me with you?” The hunters are making no sense, and it’s beginning to irritate Castiel.

“Just…” Dean holds a hand in front of him and realizes he doesn’t have a good argument. He drops his hand and sighs, “Just stay here, okay?”

Castiel stares at Dean and the older hunter finds it difficult to look away. “Can you at least tell me your name?”

Dean’s still staring and he has no idea how long it continues until Sam clears his throat. Dean blinks quickly and tries to clear his head, “Sorry, what?”

“Your name.” Castiel says very slowly as if speaking to a young child. “I managed to pick up your brother’s name from your conversations, but I never caught yours.”

“Dean.” He sticks one of his hands out for a handshake. “Dean Winchetser, and this is my brother Sammy.”

“Sam.” The younger hunter corrects.

Castiel stares at Dean’s hand a moment before staring back into Dean’s eyes, “It’s pleasure to make your acquaintance Dean Winchester. I wish the circumstances had been better.”

Dean drops his hand with a scoff, “Yeah, you and me both.’ When he drops he hand, the pain on his upper arm screams out again and Dean can’t take it anymore. “What the hell?” Quickly tearing off his jacket and throwing onto the bed, he heads towards the bathroom.

Sam watches his brother’s retreat with a slowly growing concern, “Dean?”

“What the hell!” Dean yells, and Sam is going to expect someone to start banging on the wall or door any minute if this keeps up.

Sam almost misses the very slight wince from the faerie at Dean’s outcry, but his worry for Dean outweighs any questions he may have about the faerie’s reaction. “You said that already. What’s up?”

Dean walks back out of the bathroom with his left sleeve rolled up and a pained grimace on his face. On Dean’s left deltoid is what appears to be a raised burn in the shape of a handprint. It’s extremely red and neither brother has seen anything like it before.

Both hunters’ eyes shoot over in the direction of the faerie who is currently staring at the motel carpet as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Dean might have bought that, but the normally still wings are twitching restlessly and he’s pretty confident that Castiel’s eyes are intentionally avoiding Dean’s.

“Cas.” He’s trying not to sound too angry, but it’s not coming across so well. “Do you know anything about this because I sure as hell think you do.”

The faerie opens his mouth to speak a few times before he shuts it again without any hint giving any kind of answer.

“Castiel!” Dean wants to know what’s going on and he’s decided he’s going to get an answer dammit.

His expression makes no change, but Castiel’s wings stiffen and then slump downwards. “It’s my fault. I’m still young and I was in rush to get you out that I rushed my magic.” Castiel can finally bring himself to look back up at Dean, “It was never my intention to hurt you. If it makes you feel any better, that mark will prevent you from being taken by any of my kind from now on.”

“Huh.” Well, the last part is kind of handy. Dean mentally smacks himself at the bad pun. “That I can deal with, but why the hell does it hurt so much?”

“It shouldn’t.” Castiel steps closer to Dean, and the hunter shifts on his feet uncomfortable at the close proximity. A whole new array of smells, sounds, and even feelings start to overwhelm Dean with the faerie this close. It’s faint, but he thinks he’s smells a mix of apples and lavender. It’s a strange combination, but he finds it quickly growing on him. It’s probably because of those damn flowers Castiel is wearing on his wings. He also hears a sound that he can’t begin to describe. It’s like a muted ringing, but it’s also like a voice. There’s also a warm almost tingling feeling just under his skin and in combination with the smell and sounds, Dean suddenly feels like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

The pain in his shoulder has also stopped.

“Dean?” Blue eyes are staring deeply into Dean’s green ones and it’s then that someone’s calling out to him, “Dean?”

“Yeah?” Dean shakes his head and he turns to Sam who looks five seconds away from pushing himself in between his brother and the supernatural being. Speaking of which, Dean feels a warm hand pressed right against the burn, if it can even be called that.

In what Dean considers far too soon, Castiel pulls his hand back. Dean looks at the mark and it doesn’t look agitated anymore, although it’s still very red, and instead of the pain that it was it’s now more of a dull ache. Something is still missing though, and it’s driving Dean insane.

“I asked how does it feel now?” Castiel’s brow is furrowed, but his eyes still carry that intense glow. Dean’s trying to concentrate, but right now he’s more focused on the faerie’s parted lips, tousled, brown hair, and the fascinating way his vine crown fits around his pointed ears.

“Better. Uh,” Dean catches himself staring at Castiel’s lips again and maybe he needs to step away from the faerie now. Maybe he just needs some air. “Sorry, just. What is that?”

“What?” Sam looks around the room and when he doesn’t notice anything out of place he looks back at his brother.

“That weird sound and that smell?” Dean’s trying to push himself away, but he can’t move.

Luckily Castiel does it for him. The faerie backs away and stares at Dean wide eyed. “You’re probably just hungry. I suggest you and your brother go get something to eat. I will wait here until you return.”

Sam doesn’t hear or smell anything and agrees that getting Dean some food, and maybe some time away from Castiel, is the best course of action.

 

_______________

 

There’s no way Dean is reacting the way it sounds like. It’s probably just an after effect of Castiel’s huge mistake. He can’t even believe he did such a thing, and if his father finds out about it he can only imagine the punishment he will get.

That’s something he can think about that later if it comes down to it. For the time being, he could use some sleep. His kind doesn’t need much sleep, but there’s something about the human’s world that’s more taxing and exhausting on his body. He’s not sure where he’s supposed to sleep though. Everything is flat and stiff looking unless the two large boxes sitting in the middle of this small room. Castiel presses a hand against one of the boxes and finds it a lot softer than it originally appeared. It’s still lacking too much in Castiel’s opinion and looks nothing like a proper nest. He starts rummaging around the room and finds a bag full of clothing and other items that would be suitable, he also finds some large, folded squares of fabric and he goes to work at bundling the bits together on the large, rectangle in a more suitable nest.

Once everything has been situated properly he removes his outer most layers of clothing and adds them to the pile. Unknowingly to him, Dean’s clothes are far more likely to wrinkle than his own. He doesn’t even know it’s Dean’s clothes he’s currently nestling up against.

His wings try to spread out as much as they can given their bound condition, and the last thing he thinks about before he drifts off is about how idiotic it was for him to botch a spell so bad that he accidentally put himself in a one-sided bond with a hunter.

 

_______________

 

Lord Oberon is sitting on his throne in the same dining room where Dean met him the first time. This time, however, the king is in his full attire. One elbow rests on the arm of his throne and his chin rests on his hand. He’s furious at what his guard had just told him. His son, his youngest, is missing, “Where is my son?”

“We don’t know, Your Highness.”

“I’m only going to ask this once more.” Oberon leans in close and grips the arm rest tightly in his fingers as he spits the words out like venom, “Where. Is. My. Son?”

“We think the human took him during his escape.”

Oberon grits his teeth together and bares them threateningly at the men before him, and the wood cracks and splinters under his fingers. “Gather my troops.”

 

_______________

 

 


	4. In Which the Truth Comes Out OR How Sam Learns About a Bunch of Stuff He Wishes He Didn’t Bother to Ask About

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apple blossoms are supposed to signify preference whereas apples themselves signify temptation. Lilacs (not lavender because Dean guessed that one wrong since he doesn't know squat about flowers) have a variety of symbolism. Field lilacs are supposed to symbolize humility, purple lilacs symbolize first feelings of love, and white lilacs symbolize purity, innocence, and majesty. In this case, it’s more likely apple blossoms and white lilacs, but the meanings will vary from chapter to chapter. In this AU, each faerie has their own unique combination of scents they produce so Cas’ will always be a combination of apples and lilacs, but the strength and type will vary depending on his moods.

Sam huffs an amused laugh when he first walks through the motel door. The sound gets Dean’s attention and has the older hunter looking into the room to figure out what Sam is laughing at. He was hoping it was something that would make him laugh also, but instead finds embarrassment washing over him.

During the short time they were gone, Castiel has made some kind of nest or fort from Dean’s varying laundry and the spare blankets and towels. Dean can’t see much of the faerie, but he can make out one of the faerie’s wings sticking out and resting over part of the huge mound of clothes and fabric. Part of him wants to wake Castiel up so he can yell at him for making such a mess, not to mention how it’s not considered normal to make a bed out of someone else’s belongings, but the other part wants to leave him alone for reasons he will never admit to.

Sam takes a seat on the empty bed and begins digging into his salad as he kicks off his shoes and stretches his legs out on the mattress. Dean sends his brother a glare when he sees that Sam hasn’t left any room for Dean to sit down, leaving Dean to sit at the small table by the window.

Dean sets the small, paper bag of food down on the table and starts rummaging through the contents and pulls out a cheeseburger. He’s about to take a bite when the sleeping body on his bed stirs and sniffs the air curiously. A mess of dark, brown hair appears from behind the large mound of fabric and turns to stare at where the savory scent is coming from. Dean watches with an eyebrow raised and trying to keep a smirk from playing on his face.

The faerie’s eyes open slowly and focus on where Dean is, or rather the food that sits in his hands. Dean pauses from taking the first bite and wonders why he suddenly smells apples instead of his burger and looks around the room hoping to catch a glimpse at what might be causing the new, stronger scent. Bright, almost glowing, blue eyes train on Dean as the older hunter’s are searching around the room and Castiel takes the opportunity to fling himself out of the bed and towards Dean.

Dean jerks and stares wide eyed at what now appears to be half naked faerie charging at him, in time to catch sight of Castiel snatching his food from his hands and disappear under the bed. He blinks a few times and his mouth opens and closes a few times as if to say something, but ends up keeping it shut and looking from side to side confused. Sam looks at Dean and laughs before returning to his salad.

It takes a few moments for Dean to finally shake the initial shock, and he shakes his head before reaching into the fast food bag to pull out another burger. He’s about to take a bite, but he’s interrupted again this time by soft, muffled moans from under the bed. Both hunters do their best to ignore the sounds, but when it continues Dean finally gets fed up and sets his cheeseburger down and squats down by the bed the faerie dived under. When he lifts the edge of the bed’s comforter, he’s staring at Castiel blissfully munching away at the burger he ripped out of Dean’s hands.

“Cas,” and Dean doesn’t even know how he’s going to explain this to a faerie who clearly doesn’t know any better, “Cas you can’t… you can’t make those sounds.” He glances up at Sam looking for some kind of help, but Sam is completely focused on his salad and avoiding Dean’s eyes. Dean sighs and returns to the faerie who’s nearly finished with the cheeseburger. “Okay, man. You can’t eat under the freakin’ bed. At least come out of there.”

Castiel stuffs the remainder of the food in his mouth and crawls out from under the bed.

“How the fuck did you even fit under there?” The faerie is lean, but he’s not that much smaller than Dean and is about the same height. Not only that but he does have those two fucking huge wings too. Dean’s trying not to let his eyes wander too much, and looks away as he leads the faerie over to sit at the table. “And what the hell happened to your clothes?”

“Are you kidding me? Did they not feed you or something?” Dean throws up his arms with a frown. He sends Sam a hard glare when he hears his younger brother snickering. “You know what, Samantha. If you’re just going to sit there and laugh, you can go and get some me some more burgers.

That gets Sam’s attention, “What? Why should I go?”

“Unless you want to stay here with our plus one.” Dean smirks. Either way he’s going to win. Sam will have to go out and get him more food, and therefore help Dean. Or he can stay with the faerie and put up with this nonsense and finally giving Dean some time alone.

Sam throws Dean one of his best bitch faces and gets up from the bed and grabs his coat on the way to the door. Before the door slams shut, Dean manages out a snarky, “Thanks Sammy!”

Dean’s smile fades when he smells the faint apple scent from before, except it’s different this time and smells more floral and now there’s a small trace of lilacs again too. “What is that smell?”

The faerie stiffens a bit, but doesn’t say anything and continues eating the remainder of Dean’s burger. It doesn’t get past Dean though, and the hunter’s brow furrow and focuses completely on Castiel. “Is that you?”

Castiel looks up hesitantly at Dean, and then off to the side as he slowly chews the bite of food he’d just taken.

Dean narrows his eyes, “Cas?”

After he gulps the food down, Castiel looks at Dean again. “Yes.”

“Okay… want to tell me why you smell like Bath and Body Works?”

The embarrassment on Castiel’s face disappears and is replaced by confusion, “I don’t know what that is.”

Dean rolls his eyes and his voice carries a slight edge of annoyance, “You smell like fruit and flowers, man.”

Castiel’s eyes widen a fraction and the faerie sits taller in the chair, “You shouldn’t be able to smell that.”

“Well, I’m telling you I do, so what the hell does that mean?” Dean’s about five seconds from snapping, and if he doesn’t get some answers soon he’s probably going to do or say something he’ll regret later.

“It is not of import.”

When Castiel doesn’t say anything else, Dean rubs a hand over his face. “You know what? Fine. Can you at least tell me why you’re in your underwear, or whatever the hell that thing is?” Dean gestures in the direction of the small white cloth barely concealing much of anything.

“You sleep in your clothes?” Castiel looks baffled.” Isn’t that uncomfortable, and what do you sleep on?”

“Well, we have separate clothes for sleeping in, and we sleep under the blankets.” Dean mutters in a manner that says it should be obvious.

“Your nests are very strange. At first, they looked hard and unpleasant.” Castiel gets up from his seat and walks to the side of the bed and bends over to press down on the mattress. “But surprisingly they are even more comfortable than anything I have slept in before.” His wings shift and Dean’s eyes follow the movement, which is a mistake because it causes his eyes to travel from where the faerie’s back where the feathers meet the skin down to-

“Alright.” Dean breaks his eyes away and claps his hands together. “That’s enough for now. How about you get dressed so we can get going when Sammy comes back?”

Castiel’s head tilts in curiosity, “Where are we going?”

“No offense, dude.” Dean distracts himself by packing up his bag, “But just because we’re keeping an eye on you doesn’t mean we’re going to stop hunting. We’ve got a job to do.”

Castiel nods, “Can I be of any assistance?”

Dean looks up from his bag, and he immediately regrets it when he sees that the faerie hasn’t bothered to make any effort to get dressed yet and he looks back down at his bag. “You really want to help? You sure this isn’t some prank you’re playing because I’m not in the mood especially when our lives are on the line.”

The faerie looks at Dean pointedly, “Unlike my brothers, I do not participate in pranks. However, my brothers Uriel and Gabriel are actually quite good at it. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I do want to help if I can.”

“Yeah, sure pal.” The remark leaves Dean’s mouth on its own, but when it does he realizes that he does have more reason to trust Castiel than the others. All the other Fae treated him as an inferior, but Castiel chose to help him without a second thought. Castiel may have his own reasons for that, but as much as Dean hates it, he owes the guy and the least he can do is give him a chance. Disappointment clouds over Castiel’s face, and either this guy really good at acting, or he really means it. “Alright, alright. You can help.”

Dean points at Castiel with a serious look when Castiel’s wings perks up slightly, “But you’re going to stay in sight at all times, you hear me? I don’t trust you enough not to know where you are all the time.”

“Of course, Dean.” He’s not sure if his eyes are playing tricks on him, or if it’s the faerie himself, but Dean thinks he can almost see a smile on Castiel’s lips at the response.

 

_______________

 

It’s not long before Sam returns with more food and Dean’s not only thankful because his stomach was starting to eat itself away, but because he brought more food for Castiel. Castiel smells the air and immediately snatches the bag from Sam’s hand who stares wide-eyed at the faerie as Castiel retreats to the nest he made on Dean’s bed.

“Hey, feathers!” Dean rips the bag from Castiel’s hands, “Leave something for me.”

Castiel’s expression doesn’t change, but his wings droop a little. “I apologize. I’ve just never had anything quite like that before.” He perks up a little when Dean hands him one of the cheeseburgers, and he wastes no time unwrapping the burger and taking a bite. “These make me very happy.”

Small laughs come from both brothers and Dean finally takes a bite of his first burger moaning at the taste.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to make those sounds.” Castiel is staring at Dean completely bewildered.

“Yeah, Dean.” Sam smiles and crosses his arms. “You’re not setting a good example for Castiel.”

Sam, the bitch that he is, is already back to giving Dean shit and Dean doesn’t like it one bit. He’s going to give Sam so much trouble later. Right now he’s even tempted to ask Castiel for help, even though he knows better and most likely won’t later. The younger brother, on the other hand, thinks he’s hilarious and starts laughing at his own joke.

“Shut up.” Dean mumbles and he’s feeling far too tired and hungry to bother with what he would consider a brilliant retort.

“You okay, Dean?” The amusement vanishes and morphs into concern when Sam notices how worn out his brother looks.

Dean rubs his eyes in between mouthfuls of food, “Yeah.”

Sam doesn’t buy it at all. He’s seen his brother like this before and he’s not about to let him go on a hunt after the last time this happened. “Dean…”

“Sam,” Dean holds up a hand to stop his brother from saying what he knows he’s going to. “Don’t okay?”

“No, I need to say it. You look like you’re going to pass out. You need to get some sleep or it’s going to be like that witch hunt back in Sturbridge. I can handle this.”

“Sam.”

“I can handle this. The shifter problem has been already taken care of, now there’s just the ghost problem.” Sam makes it sound simple, though the case has had both of them worried when they found out the killings were two different cases in the same town.

It was smart for the shifter though. It made its kills look much like the ghost had and originally made the hunters think it was all the work of the vengeful spirit. Unfortunately for the shifter, it slipped up and started killing well outside the ghost’s boundaries. The other part that worried them was the fact the shifter was aware of exactly what it was doing instead of just killing whatever was nearby. Something was really off about the shifter, and there’s no telling if their ‘simple salt and burn’ will turn out just as bad.

Sam ponders a second and then turns to the faerie who looks like he’s about to drift off again. “Hey, can I ask you something?” The question is enough to keep Castiel from falling asleep and he looks up at Sam. “Do you know anything about shape shifters?”

The faerie looks at Dean who is also curious about the answer, and although he doesn’t show it Castiel is finally glad to be of some help. “I know a fair amount. Their kind and ours share the same realms in both life and death. When we’re not sharing the world with your kind, we share both Avalon and Purgatory. Generally we avoid each other. The shape shifters tend to be a bit aggressive in their natural state.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Dean scoffs but Sam waves in his direction almost angrily.

This is far more than any amount of research Sam has gotten and he wants to get as much as possible before the faerie decides to change his mind on helping them. Like Dean, he still doesn’t trust him, but so far there’s nothing said that would give any reason to lie.

“When in their borrowed skin, they’re even less likely to approach us. I can only assume it has something to do with the way your kind usually deals with ours, but even so, I still know a few things. Is there something in particular, or could you be more specific?” Castiel probably shouldn’t tell them anything, considering they are hunters, but no one has ever said that he shouldn’t. If he can help them any way to gain their trust he’s more than willing to assist them in any way he can.

Dean’s mouth opens and when he looks at Sam it clicks shut. Sam’s clearly about to go into his geek out mode. Dean can see the mind numbingly long list of questions flying around in that large head of his. The thought alone makes Dean laugh at his own joke and looks away when Sam sends him a questioning look. He then takes the opportunity to get up and walk over to Sam’s bed and lie down after kicking off his boots.

Ignoring his brother, who is probably thinking of some stupid joke or insulting him in his head like he knows Dean does, Sam turns back to focus on the supernatural encyclopedia in front of him and takes the chair Dean evacuated. “So, like I want to ask about Avalon and Purgatory, but can we come back to that in a bit?” When Castiel nods, Sam continues. “We’ve been tracking this shifter for a while and it’s part of the reason Dean ended up in Avalon?”

“You’re unsure?” Castiel isn’t quite following what Sam is trying to ask him and it must show on his face.

“Well, no. I mean I don’t know if that’s where Dean ended up.”

“Yes. That is where Dean found me, but what you’re saying is that the shifter led Dean to a portal knowingly?” Castiel can already tell why they’re confused, and if he’s honest it is very strange.

“Well, that’s what it seemed like to me anyway.” Sam looks over at Dean who’s crawling under the bed covers, “Dean?”

Dean pauses. He’s surprised he didn’t mention it himself and Sam only saw the dead shifter and Dean standing in the middle of the faerie rath. Sure he was more preoccupied with the whole being abducted by faeries and elves, but an extremely cognizant shifter was beyond weird. Then there’s the whole plotting around the ghost thing. That was the biggest clue though, the shifter was _plotting_. He’s more awake than he was a few minutes ago, and now he really wants to know the answer. Dean looks between Castiel and his brother a few times before his eyes settle on the faerie. “Yeah, fucking Kujo led me right to it and laughed in my face.”

“This shifter… Kujo, laughed at you?” Castiel seems as amazed that the creature not only laughed at Dean, but that Dean was able to learn its name in its feral state.

“No, I mean. Yeah, it laughed at me.” Dean rolls over on his side away from the other two and mumbles, “I’m too tired for this shit right now.”

Sam on the other hand scoots his chair closer to the bed Castiel is perched on, “So, what do you know of shape shifters having any semblance of high intelligence because I’ve never heard of such a thing. Is it really just a façade or was it really able to separate its primal instincts from its reasoning?”

Castiel’s eyes are still glued on the hunter slowly falling asleep in the other bed, but at the same time he racks his thoughts for any information that Sam might be looking for and when something finally comes to mind he tears his gaze from Dean to the other hunter. “There’s only been rumors to my knowledge, but I’ve heard of even the most monstrous creatures becoming aware to some degree. Once such rumor is that when a frightful beast in Avalon becomes as such, it is cast away to the human realm to protect the Fae because we cannot control them or even contend against them without heavy losses.”

“You send them here?” Castiel isn’t exactly surprised by the anger starting to seep into Sam’s voice. He’s sure if he was in Sam’s place, he might be inclined to feel the same way.

“Rumors and stories. I’m afraid I don’t have a definite answer for you.”

Sam backs off a little when he realizes that Castiel isn’t really the one to be blame if the stories were even true. Maybe changing the subject will lighten the mood a bit. “What’s Avalon like?”

Castiel isn’t sure how to answer the question and it takes him a little longer than he would like before he decides that he has to tell Sam as such. “I don’t know how to answer that question. Avalon is all I’ve ever known. This is the first time I’ve been outside of it. It’s… home?”

Unfortunately for Sam, he’s not familiar with home. He and Dean have been on the road so much and as long as they can remember that they don’t even know what it’s like to have a home of their own. It’s been something Sam has wanted, and tried for, but in the end it wasn’t in the cards for them to have it. Maybe that’s why he’s seems a bit desperate to hear more of Castiel’s answer. If he can’t have a home of their own, he can at least hear about someone else’s.

“Avalon, from the parts I have seen, is always busy but probably not in the sense you would call it. My kind is always moving, always working on or doing something whenever they’re not sleeping, but I would hardly call what they do work. Trees canopy over the capitol as far as one can see and the plant life is lush in the places where the suns can break through the tree tops to the ground below. I’ve heard that the land where the capitol resides is surrounded by waterfalls that go on for miles to the common lands and then from the common lands to the dark lands. From what I have read, the common lands are just as lush but are more dangerous. The capitol and the highlands it is found on are for the Fae, and the common lands are for the other creatures you and your brother hunt.”

Sam’s leaning forward in his chair and hanging on Castiel’s every word, “And the dark lands?”

“The land of the Unseelie.” Castiel doesn’t know much about them except from what he’s heard in stories, but that seems to be all he’s been able to share with Sam so far. “The Dark Fae. They are creatures so dark they rival what your kind calls demons. Some stories even say they are one in the same.”

The younger hunter doesn’t like the sound of that. If they are different creatures, he can’t imagine how terrifying they would be if the other faeries have to cast them away, and if they are demons… he doesn’t even want to think of that. “Why did you leave?”

 Castiel was starting to worry he wasn’t going to be able to fully answer any of Sam’s questions, so he’s moderately relieved when Sam asks the next question because it’s one he finally knows the answer to. “At first… I wasn’t sure. Your brother needed help, and I knew if they had captured him again it would not have been pleasant for him. I didn’t actually have a chance to think about what I was doing until we got to one of the exit portals. Once we were there, I realized the only way to get him out was to go with him. A faerie cannot leave Avalon without the aid of a human, which is why humans have to summon faeries for help or find ones already in your world, and Dean couldn’t leave on his own because your kind, save a select few, have lost the ways of old magic.” The faerie looks down at his left hand and flexes it as if he’s never seen it before. “I got so caught up in the feeling of finally getting out of the capitol I wasn’t thinking properly, and I did something I shouldn’t have.”

“Are you going to get in trouble?” Sam looks genuinely concerned for the faerie and it actually takes Castiel by surprise because he’s never seen anyone look like that for his sake in all his years, _centuries_.

“I’m certain my father will not be pleased, but he wouldn’t allow me to come to any harm. If anything, he probably believes that your brother took me prisoner.” He frowns at his own words in a way that suggests he only thought of it now. “I won’t let him hurt Dean though. This is my fault, and I have a better chance surviving my father’s wrath than Dean ever would.”

He’s got a suspicion, and he really hopes he’s wrong, but Sam can’t help but ask his next question. “Who’s your father?”          

With the most serious and straight face Castiel can give he responds, “His Lordship and King of the Fae, Oberon.”

_Fuck_. Dean’s really gotten them in it this time.

“Do you think he’s going to send someone after you?” Again, Sam wishes he would stop asking questions he’s really dreading to hear the answers of.

“Undoubtably.”

“Something we should worry about?” Stop. Just stop asking questions already.

“Without question.” Sam groans and hides his face in his hands when Castiel continues to answer Sam with the worst possible responses. “To be honest, when I first found out about his altered vision, it’s the main reason I wished to stay close by. He’s been given the gift of faerie sight, and it’s not something that will go away. As helpful as it will be whenever you hunt, it’s something that goes both ways. He’s been marked by the Fae, and the Fae and any likely animals and the creatures you hunt will see this for as long as he lives. It’s not a gift given often, so chances are likely that Dean will be targeted if I’m not around.” Castiel pauses, he doesn’t want to share the next part, but it’s not fair to keep such an important detail from them. He can tell Dean later after he’s fully rested. “They will not touch him so long as I am nearby. The mark on his arm will attest to that. It’s unheard of to release a human after they have been brought to Avalon, and the only way I was able to do so is by putting a claim on him.”

Sam sits up straighter in his seat and the more he hears the more he thinks his brother royally, no pun intended, screwed up.

“When a claim is laid on a living soul, it leaves a mark, a brand.” Castiel looks over his shoulder and stares at the very place he burned his own claim on Dean’s arm.

Sam sputters, “What like a… like a shirt tag at camp?”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “I have no idea.”

“So you _claimed_ Dean?” And maybe he said that a bit more harshly than he intended, but can anyone honestly blame him?

“Yes. But you or Dean don’t have anything to worry about. He has no obligations because of my error.” There’s no reason to bring up the fact that Castiel does, however. He’s done enough already and there’s no reason to bring them any further into his mess.

Sam still has a million questions, but he doesn’t think he can handle much more and, in Dean fashion, he feels he could really use a drink. “Alright. We’ll talk more later. You stay here, and try to keep you and Dean out of any more trouble, okay?” He’s still got a salt and burn to take care of after all. Sam never thought he would use a hunt to take his mind off an even bigger problem. _Problems_.

He grabs what he needs for his hunt and the keys to the car before heading out the door leaving his sleeping and currently helpless brother alone with a freaking faerie. Sam feels like everyone is losing their minds, but there’s something about Castiel that he feels he can trust. There wasn’t any hesitation in his answers except the ones about the whole brand thing. Castiel even warned them about the likelihood of faeries coming after them when in all respects he probably shouldn’t have. Sam can’t leave his brother alone for five minutes without him doing something stupid. Hopefully he can finish the hunt before Dean even wakes up.

Unknowingly to Sam, however, Dean’s lying on his side and wide awake.

 

_______________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lore for AU purposes: It’s not that time passes faster in Avalon so much as it stretches. Things move more quickly in Avalon. Kind of like a movie on fast-forward. For the Fae, or at least faeries, this can carry over with them and it’s how they are able to complete tasks so quickly. For faeries, their wings only gives them flight though the vibrations of their wings, so they’re more like insects and hummingbirds rather than other birds with flight. It’s also how faeries in the human world keep their wings hidden from those gifted with faerie sight (those who have been to Avalon, young children, or other innocent believers).


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/Ns: Oh, man. Why did no one tell me I switched from shapeshifter to werewolf right in the middle? That being said, I did a lot of editing on the last chapter and, for sanity sake, shapeshifters in this verse only have moderate intelligence but nothing extraordinary like the one Sam and Dean found (which is a shame because I love the SpN shapeshifters).

The door clicks as it closes behind Sam, and Dean still doesn’t move. His mind is racing at everything that his brother and Castiel discussed. Not to mention the shock that Sam has no qualms about leaving his supposedly sleeping, older brother alone with a faerie. And what’s the deal with this whole ‘bond’ thing they were talking about? Dean feels there’s more to it and Castiel isn’t sharing everything. For some reason, he believes the faerie that Dean’s in the clear, but that doesn’t do much to quell the tight feeling in his gut that Castiel might have gotten himself into something he can’t get out of.

All because of Dean.

Dean closes his eyes tight and his self-loathing rears to the surface at the thought of ruining someone else’s life, supernatural being or not. He always fucks things up, and unless Castiel is willing to share more of the details, Dean has no idea how badly it is this time.

On top of all this crazy bullshit, they’ve also got to worry about smart shifters and crazy ghosts. He doesn’t know why Sam had him stay behind, there’s no way he’s getting any sleep with his mind running a mile a minute.

He has no clue how long he lies on the bed worry about things he knows there’s no chance of getting answers to any time soon, but he’s pulled from his thoughts when he catches that weird scent of apples and… what is it? Lilacs? Dean’s not exactly knowledgeable on flowers, but something keeps telling him it must be lilacs. Shortly after he notices the smell, he can feel his hunter instincts going haywire when he senses eyes watching him and a warm feeling of someone sitting beside him on the bed.

How long has Castiel been sitting there watching him, and more importantly how the hell did Dean not realize it sooner? Even when he’s mentally screaming about how much of a fuck he is, it hardly ever distracts him from his surroundings and his hunter instincts typically override everything else. Not only that, but Dean didn’t even realize it until he caught the smell. Would he have even noticed it without the fragrant smell? Pushing it all aside and chalking it up to lack of sleep, Dean decides that maybe he should check to see if he’s right about being watched in the first place before jumping to conclusions.

Once again his instincts prove to be right on the money, and when Dean turns on his side he catches sight of two intense and unreal, blue eyes staring down at him. Most people would have the decency to look away embarrassed at being caught at watching a stranger sleep, but Castiel has already proven he’s not most people. Part of that might be due to the fact he’s a freakin’ faerie. Regardless, Dean is transfixed, captivated even.

The strange, floral smell is gradually getting stronger, albeit a slightly different smell than the previous times he noticed it, and Dean could bet money that it has something to do with the faerie staring at him right now. Castiel has already shut him down once on the subject before, but this seems to be a reoccurring theme, so the hunter really wants to know what the hell is going on and no more “not of import” bullcrap. Dean wants answers and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t start getting them.

“Alright, Cas.” The faerie blinks at the sudden comment, but doesn’t make any indication to move and that’s when Dean realizes how close they’re sitting next to each other. After scooting back a bit on the bed, Dean licks his lips in the same manner he usually does when he’s preparing himself for what’s bound to be an awkward conversation. It’s already becoming awkward when he doesn’t miss how Castiel’s eyes watch the motion without any attempt to hide it. “You’ve gotta level with me, man. What’s the deal with the smell?”

That seems to get a reaction, and Castiel sits up straight and while his face doesn’t show any sign of nervousness, his eyes say something completely different. “It is not-”

“And don’t give me that ‘It is not of import’ crap again. It’s bad enough your family is going to be gunning after me and Sam now because of the stunt you pulled to get us out of there…” Dean knows it’s just as much his fault as it is Castiel’s, possibly even more, but that’s not important to the point he’s trying to make. “But I really could use some answers. I’m a hunter. I hate being in the dark about stuff.”

Castiel takes a deep sigh and looks down at his lap as if he’s collecting his thoughts on how to answer Dean’s question. Coming to a conclusion, he looks up and Dean gets lost in those surreal, sapphire pools again. “It’s… difficult to explain. Each of my kind has unique scents to distinguish us from one another in combination with our physical appearance. Some scents only emerge in certain situations, whereas others can vary just depending on their mood.” Castiel’s wings lightly twitch, and Dean can only assume it’s due to the uneasy topic. “It’s typically our biggest indicator to hunters or other predators since we can’t detect our own.

Dean frowns at Castiel’s comment about hunters being linked with “other predators.” He’s never thought about being the “bad guy.” It should surprise him that he hasn’t, but given how he and Sam were raised it makes sense.

To them, they’ve always been the heroes, saving people from the horrors of the supernatural kind. It’s a little weird to be sitting here having a discussion with one such creature and thinking about how hunters might fall into the same category of “monster” in the eyes of the things they’ve been dealing with since they were kids. As much as Dean wants to ignore it and put it all down to the whole “they started it” kind of attitude, a small nagging in his head that sounds a lot like Sam reminds him of a conversation he had with his brother not that long ago.

There’s been more than one occasion where Sam has questioned their methods and what they do, even with Jess’ gruesome demise. Are all supernatural beings inherently evil? At the time, Dean blew Sam off and told him that “of course they were” and he didn’t bother pulling any punches about the terrible things they’ve witnessed firsthand.

But… but what if he and their father was wrong? There’s a living contradiction sitting just in front of him. Can he honestly say that every one of them is evil? It’s not like he knows all of them personally, and what if the good ones are just like Castiel? Ones that just want to be left alone or hide amongst everyone else? Maybe they just want to see the world for themselves? What are the chances that Sam and Dean _know_ someone that is some otherworldly creature without knowing what they really are?

Dean rubs his temples and pulls his hands across his face tiredly. His head hurts. In just a short time, he already feels like he’s questioning everything he’s ever known. Is this Castiel’s aim, or is the faerie speaking genuinely? Doubt is dangerous. Doubt and uncertainty is the thing that gets a hunter killed and, while he’s not on a hunt right now, Dean knows he needs to push it away before it does any more damage.

Except that it already has taken a strong foothold and makes no effort to leave him at peace any time soon.

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice manages to give Dean a much needed distraction from his thoughts, and when Dean looks up he can see the faint line of worry in the faerie’s brow.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Like hell he is, but Dean still can’t trust Castiel enough to tell him what’s running through his mind when he can’t even understand it himself. “So, you guys are like scratch and sniff mood rings?”

The confusion that floods Castiel’s face is almost enough to make Dean laugh. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry about it, man.” Dean can’t hold back a chuckle. Maybe he’s just tired. He can think more about this stuff once he’s gotten at least a few decent hours of sleep. “So, you’re telling me that you guys each have your own smell that tells you apart.” When Castiel nods, Dean continues, “But you have no idea what your own scent is like?”

Castiel nods again.

“Well, I gotta admit, I’ve smelled a lot worse things.” When Castiel frowns, Dean realizes how that must have sounded. “I mean, I don’t know why you’re all embarrassed about it. It’s…” Man, is he really going to say it? “Nice.” Yep. He said it, and he already wants to pull the words back.

Castiel’s wing shift, but the expression on the faerie’s face doesn’t change too much though Dean’s pretty confident that the frown lessens the fairest amount. “But that shouldn’t be possible.”

Now it’s Dean’s turn to be confused.

“You shouldn’t be able to smell it at all.” Before Dean can interrupt, Castiel holds up a hand as he looks away slightly. “I realize what I said is contradictory to what I previously said. Our scents can and do give us away to your kind including hunters, but what I’m trying to say is you shouldn’t be able to smell _mine_.”

Castiel sighs again when Dean still doesn’t pick up on what he’s trying to convey. “As long as I have known, I’ve never had one. I admit you took me by surprise when you brought it up the first time and I thought it was something else, but then you keep bringing it up and there’s no mistaking it. But why now?”

Dean can tell the last part was more so Castiel talking to himself rather than to Dean. Given what’s been happening lately, there are far too many variables as to why it’s suddenly become an issue. It is Castiel’s first time in the human world, then there’s that whole “bond” thing that Dean doesn’t want to touch with a ten foot pole right now, not to mention…

“When was the first time you noticed it?” The faerie seems to be very focused on this whole thing and looks like he’s going to get to the bottom of it now.

“Uh,” Thinking back on it now, it’s a bit hazy. As if there’s a cloud or mist attempting to block out the memory. “I think it was when you stopped my arm from hurting.”

The faerie rests a hand under his chin in thought and then rubs his index finger up against his lips as he ponders. His finger stops moving, in fact, his whole body freezes up at Dean’s next words. “But there was also this weird ringing, or was it a voice?”

Dean is too focused on trying to bring the memory back to the surface that he misses Castiel’s sudden change. “It was… it was…” And it’s gone. His eyes go wide when the slowly disappearing memory just vanishes completely. If he didn’t know it was there in the first place, he might not have thought it ever happened. “What the hell.” He throws the covers off and stands up wide awake, feeling as if a cold bucket of water was thrown on him. “What the hell! It’s gone! It was right there and it just fucking disappeared!”

But that’s not even the worst part. He desperately wants it back. He can’t even remember it, but he wants it back because he _knows_ it’s important and special. Dean doesn’t even have that many good memories, but to have it so violently ripped away from him is almost _maddening_.

He looks pleadingly at Castiel and, for the first time since meeting him, sees a completely exposed expression of panic on the faerie’s face. “Cas. What did you do?”

Castiel shakes his head and what the hell does that mean? He didn’t do it? He doesn’t want to talk about it?

“Cas.” Dean can’t believe how angry, how desperate he sounds right now.

“No, Dean.” And Dean knows that tone. No matter what he says, Castiel effectively ended the conversation.

Regardless, he wants to push the subject because he needs to know. Instead he walks across the room and grabs the closest thing and hurls it across the room. The loud bang and following thud tells him it was something that wasn’t breakable like his phone. Thank goodness for that. The last time he broke his phone like that, it was a nightmare because he had to run down the street to a pay phone to make a much needed phone call to his and Sam’s hunter friend Bobby.

Dean starts tossing thing in his duffle bag with just as much frustration as he had when he stormed across the room. He can feel Castiel watching him, but he’s too pissed to deal with the faerie any more right now. Dean knows there’s no real reason for him to be upset with Castiel because the guy has no obligation to spill every detail about every little thing about him, but Dean has a good hunch that Castiel is at least partly responsible for his abrupt memory problems. If there’s one thing Dean can’t stand, it’s people screwing with his head, and Castiel has managed to do that more than he knows. If he even knows at all.

Hearing the faint sound of the bed springs, Dean hazards a guess that Castiel has gotten up from his place on the bed. “Dean,” and boy does Castiel move fast and quietly because Dean didn’t even hear anything after he got up from the bed. “What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” Again, he wants to yell at himself for getting angry at Castiel, but he’s already said he’s not in the mood for any more of this faerie bullcrap.

There’s no answer, and Dean pauses packing and wonders if he finally managed to piss off Castiel. After another beat, he hears the faerie’s gruff voice speak up, “You’re not resting.”

Dean rolls his eyes even though he’s facing away from Castiel, “Obviously.”

Silence again.

Dean rests his hands on either side of his bag and drops his head in front of him. He returns to packing and while his irritation with Castiel and his nagging is rising, his anger is slowly dissipating. “I’m going to go help Sam.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Dean turns and his mouth his open and on the verge of a snarky remark, but he stops when he sees the sincere look on Castiel’s face match the concern in his voice.

The hunter gracelessly drops down on the bed mattress and starts putting on his shoes, “Well, I’m not getting any sleep, so I might as well do something.” Castiel looks like he wants to argue, but instead he chooses to sit back down on the other bed and wait. “Besides, you said you wanted to help, right?”

It doesn’t hit Dean until he’s staring at the empty parking space that he realizes he has no idea how to get there. Sam borrowed the car, which left the other two stranded. Obviously this makes sense because Dean is supposed to be resting, but now he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to get there. He supposes he could hotwire a car, which isn’t an uncommon thing for either brother, but it’s probably not the best idea considering they are still staying at the motel.

At some point Castiel must pick up on Dean’s frustration because he asks, “Is something wrong?”

Dean groans and roughly rubs a hand over his tired face, “Yeah. We have no way to get there.”

The faerie appears unbothered by their current dilemma. Actually, his wings perk up slightly and the minor worry in his face disappears entirely. “Then I can help.” It’s not a question, and Dean can’t help from staring confused at the other. “I can fly us there.”

“Whoa, hang on a sec-” Dean manages to get out the first few words, but then Castiel’s hand is gripping Dean’s shoulder and everything shifts around them.

_______________

 

Dean’s breathing heavily through his nose causing his nostrils to flare, his jaw clenches tightly every few breaths, and his eyes are darting all around without moving an inch of his completely stiff body. Castiel moves his hand away from Dean who drops the duffel he was fortunate to have in hand at the time.

The faerie is standing in front of him as if he did the most natural thing in the world, and the expectant look on his face as if waiting for some sort of praise.

“Cas,” Dean still has hardly moved, his body as rigid as it was when they first “flew” here. “Don’t do that again without my permission.”

Castiel actually looks dejected at the comment, but nods and looks away. Dean’s jaw tightens again, but more from the thought about upsetting the faerie who was only trying to help instead of the fear coursing through him moments earlier… and still.

“Thanks.” Castiel looks back up at Dean who is slowly getting out the words. “Just… check with me first, okay?”

“Of course.” Wings flutter gently just so that if there was a light wind, Dean might have thought it was that rather than the slight encouragement.

Now that Dean’s getting over his initial terror, he feels something off. Again, he’s pretty confident about his hunter senses, so he immediately goes for the .45 he had tucked away in the back waistline of his jeans. Castiel watches the hunter with interest more than looking around at what may be happening around them. It’s a bit distracting to say the least, but at least his movements are dead silent unlike the heavy footfalls of Dean’s boots on the grass and small, fallen branches on the ground. His own steps sound deafening, and that’s when he comes to notice how eerily still and quiet the woods around the cabin are.

The cabin is dark, and if it wasn’t for the impala parked not that far from it, Dean would assume Sam’s already finished the job and left. The only light is the moon shining down into the clearing and the faint glow around Castiel.

“Dean.” Speaking of Castiel, the faerie looks off to the left side of the cabin and his posture is stiff and tense. “We need to leave.”

“Yeah, like hell I’m leaving without Sammy.” Dean’s already walking towards the cabin in the direction Castiel is looking towards. Upon turning the first corner of the cabin, Dean sees a light, dying light flickering behind the building and more importantly a glow much like the one Castiel is making except brighter.

“We know you’re there. Come out.” Dean knows that voice. It’s the last voice he wants to hear.

He knew that Lord Douche of Faerie Town would send goons after them sooner or later, but Dean wasn’t expecting the guy to show up himself. More importantly, how the hell did they get here? Didn’t Castiel say something about faeries needing the help of humans to leave or something? He weighs his options, he could try to think of a way to find Sam and get the hell out of dodge by staying under cover even though they already know they’re there, or he could see if he can negotiate with the guy. Maybe Castiel can talk some sense into the guy?

Just as Dean’s decided to stay hidden, he hears Oberon speak to someone who must be close to him, “Call them out.”

Dean’s stomach drops as one thought plays over and over in his mind. _Please not Sammy, please not Sammy._ He hears a loud grunt as someone is thrown to the ground and Dean feels like he’s going to be sick.

“I said, call them out.” Oberon sounds livid.

“Go to hell.” Sam’s voice wheezes out and Dean’s original plan goes right out the window.

Castiel seems to pick up on this and stands close to Dean as he walks out into the clearing behind the cabin. Turns out the dying fire he saw is the burning remains of the ghost from their hunt and the bright glow is a good fourty-plus Fae. On top of that, there’s also a very worried looking red head shirt standing off to Oberon’s other side opposite Sam and held in place by another human looking person. She’s wearing a blue hoodie over pink one over a Star Wars Princess Leia shirt. The bearded man is wearing what looks like some kind of fisherman’s hat and some rather worn and dirty dress clothes. Chances are that one of them was responsible for letting Oberon and his lackeys out of the cage.

Oberon’s eyes are solely focused on Dean, “Castiel. Come over here. Now.” However, that’s not what Dean hears. At the same time he hears Oberon’s voice clear as day in his head, “I should kill you where you stand.” The voice sounds downright murderous and Dean knows that Oberon means every word, and a part of him is almost surprised that his head didn’t simply explode from it.

It isn’t until Castiel hesitantly starts making his way towards his father and the others that Dean realizes what he’s doing and holds out an arm to stop him. Castiel seems surprised by the action, and Dean takes some satisfaction out of the furious look he gets from dear ol’ daddy when he does so. The red headed girl’s eyes are darting back and forth between Dean and the imposing faerie standing next to her and the bearded man doesn’t seem bothered one way or another. The others look almost scandalized, but the ones that stick out the most are a faerie and a satyr who immediately start smiling after their initial shock.

The faerie has an almost medium length of blondish-brown hair that curls up slightly in the back and bangs that part from one side to the other instead of down the middle. Like Oberon, his wings are free from any vines or bindings, but his have a faint gold hue to them on the tips. The satyr has short blond hair with his bangs spiked up in the front though a bit longer and more haphazardly that Dean’s own. He’s currently shirtless and holding a wine skin in one hand, which Dean supposes is normal for them. The two seem to be mouthing things at Castiel as they try to peer over and then under Dean’s arm.

Castiel merely frowns at them, but at least makes no more attempt to move towards the large group. As much as Dean hates to say it, Castiel is his only bargaining chip right now and he can’t afford to lose him if he wants to get Sam back. Guilt twists in his gut when Castiel looks sadly at Dean.

“A trade.” Oberon speaks up as if reading Dean’s mind. “Your brother and your freedom for the safe return of my son.”

Castiel looks pleadingly at Dean, but Dean can only return it with one of apology. The young faerie’s head drops as if accepting defeat and it makes Dean feel a hundred times worse, but then he sees the excited faerie from before to subtly get Dean’s attention.

The faerie is mouthing words to him, but Dean’s having trouble making it out. He’s pretty sure he catches enough to get the gist of what the guy is trying to tell him, and before Dean knows what is what he says the words as they are being mouthed to him, “A challenge for the hand of the fair folk.”

A loud gasp erupts from the Fae except for the two smiling from before who are now snorting with laughter, and Castiel’s head whips up so quickly Dean thinks he’s going to get whiplash from just watching it.

If Dean thought Oberon was mad before, it was nothing compared to the fury he’s seeing now. The King’s wings are spread wide and if looks could kill, Dean’s certain he would be a grease stain right now. The red headed girl and Sammy look at the Fae around them confused and the bearded man has closed his eyes with a frown.

What the hell did he just say?

“You have no _right_ to make that claim, human.” Oberon starts storming up towards Dean, and Castiel stares wide-eyed at his father’s approach but takes one step forward to put himself between Dean and Oberon.

The king only gets angrier at this and Dean half expects Oberon to blow a blood vessel in his head any second, but in the next second, Oberon stops dead in his tracks and his face pales. His attention quickly turns towards his son who seems to think the grass at his feet is the most interesting thing at the present time. “Castiel.” Oberon repeats his son’s name and louder than before, but still he doesn’t answer.

“Take off your coat.” The order takes Dean by surprise and he can hear murmuring from the others. “Silence!” Oberon’s eyes are boring into Dean when he yells and lightning flashes across the sky followed by the loud boom of thunder.

Everyone watches in silence as Dean’s jaw tightens and begins to take off his leather coat. Oberon sneers at Dean’s left arm, and the hunter immediately knows what the king is looking for and that he must be glaring at the fact there’s still more layers covering the mark Castiel made. Even though Dean knows what he’s after now, he decides to be a pain in the ass as much as he can for Oberon and waits for further instruction.

“The shirt.”

“What about it? You want to know where I got it?” He can’t help but say with a smile and is amused by the fact the faerie and the satyr also seem amused by it.

Oberon’s wings flare out, “Take it off now!”

“Are you flirting with me, Your Majesty?” Dean flutters his eyes a few times for added effect and the faerie and satyr actually start laughing with a few chuckles from a few of the others including the bearded man.

It’s a short lived victory when Dean finds himself on the ground and the world reeling around him. Castiel is kneeling beside him and Oberon is glaring down from above him. “I’ve had enough of your games, _Dean Winchester_.” And okay, yeah. Dean has to admit that was pretty scary. “Show me now, or there will be no more negotiations and I will destroy you and your brother both.”

Castiel is looking at Dean and his mouth isn’t moving but he can still hear the faerie tell him, “He’s bluffing. He can do no such thing and he knows it.”

Dean can’t afford to take any chances though. He’d never forgive himself if he was responsible for Sam getting hurt because of his stubbornness. Dean removes his two over shirts together and Oberon backs away looking pained as if Dean set fire to his wings.

The clearing is dead quiet, and Oberon’s entire group is staring at Dean’s arm in shock. Even the faerie and satyr who have been mostly laughs are staring in awe at the mark briefly before breaking out into smiles than make the hair on Dean’s skin stand on end.

In the meantime, Oberon has managed to regain most of his composure, “I must accept the challenge. Prepare yourself, Dean Winchester.”


End file.
